


Squint Sideways

by todisturbtheuniverse



Series: Amaranthine [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 23:26:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1282594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/todisturbtheuniverse/pseuds/todisturbtheuniverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompted by dianjabla on Tumblr: some love for Sigrun and Velanna.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Squint Sideways

She’d tucked herself into her nook of books for the night, a fat candle to keep her company, when she first heard the noise: an aborted little strangled gasp, echoing down the hallway. Sigrun didn’t know the voice—she didn’t know any of her new companions half that well—but she knew the sound of stifled pain. She tucked her book under her arm, lofted her candle, and followed the sound back down the corridor, treading carefully in stocking feet.

The Keep was cold at night (the Keep was cold, always). It seemed to amplify the chill left there by a Warden months dead and the Orlesian mage trying to take her place. Sigrun paused in the hallway, listening, and tried not to shiver. She started counting the stones beside her to take her mind off the numb in her toes.

She’d only gotten to thirty-seven when there was a sudden  _smash_ , a shatter of some pottery, and another stifled sob—not far away, now. Sigrun set off again, candle flame wavering in the breeze that lived inside the Keep.

The door she stopped at was Velanna’s. She could hear the truncated little whimpers behind the sturdy wood. She knocked, soft. “Velanna?” she called, keeping her voice down. “Are you all right? I heard something break.”

"Go  _away_ ,” the elf snapped, her voice catching on the last syllable and hanging there, an unintended wail.

Sigrun couldn’t have a conversation with Velanna without getting her face torn off and spat back at her; no one could, really. The elf had teeth. There was a set to her mouth that stood as a prelude to her snarl, always close to the surface, always about to bubble over. Sigrun didn’t blame her, necessarily. Not one of them had led joyful lives before drinking out of that infernal cup.

But Sigrun knew people like she knew rock and earth; that was the benefit of being casteless, that you were invisible, so no one noticed when you squinted sideways at them.

"I was just reading," she went on, still soft, and slid down to sit with her back against the door. "D’you want to hear? It’s a fairytale."

Velanna had decided to ignore her. She heard it in the elf’s contemptuous sniff.

No one would hear if she read a few lines out loud. The others slept like the Stone while they were safe in the Keep. Sigrun flicked through the pages, holding the candle close. If Velanna really hated it, she would say something. She always did. It wasn’t as if she kept that thorn in her side a secret.

The only thing she heard out of the elf was a sniff, and then, long minutes later, a soft, even breath. Sigrun marked the page, closed the book, and slipped it beneath the door—just in case Velanna wanted to know how the story ended when she woke in the morning.


End file.
